CHAPTER 3 - THE MYSTERIOUS KILLER

Mira's eyes flashed with fear, her breathing unstable and heavy, the tension hung in the atmosphere as she stared at her dead mother's corpse. She fell to her knees, tears building up in her eyes.

Then she heard footsteps coming from the kitchen, the owner of the footsteps walked into the living room slowly and majestically, the sounds of the footsteps didn't betray any intention to flee. Mira sat on the floor, her entire body quivering in fear, her jaw jittering as it was carelessly left hanging open.

She began to see the person's figure in the darkness, but that was all she could see before he stopped in front of her and the corpse, he was tall, average size, his face was still cloaked by the darkness, so it was hard for her to make out what he looked like, his arms were clasped behind his back, there was a blood stain on his trouser, and he was wearing a blazer over his T-shirt, that was all she could say about him.

"Do you...remember me?" The person asked, his voice deep and soft.

Mira's eye's widened in remembrance, her voice was trembling, despite that, she attempted to speak, "I recognise that voice." She then realised something. "Wait a minute, that's not the only thing I recognise. He looks just like... No. He is the guy that killed my father, I'm sure of it, I wasn't hallucinating. It wasn't suicide. This is him."

*Flashback begins*

*Mira's POV:*

It happened 3 months ago. It was 'bring your kid to work' day, I told dad I was too old for things like this, but he insisted. He had already taken me to office, he said, his tone deep and gravelly, "I don't care what others think of my little girl, I know she'll always be my favourite kid."

My dad was a psychiatrist, so he worked in a big hospital.

We we're already in the office building, I looked at the brilliant white walls as we passed through the hall, my gaze then shifted to the smooth creamy tiled floors. "Dad, I'm your only kid, and also, I care what people say about me. Also, I'll be bored without my phone."

My dad had already taken my phone from me earlier so I can get into the 'office worker spirit'.

We had already arrived at his office door. My dad turned back to scan my face for an expression before placing his hand on the silver knob. "I see what the problem is-, you don't wanna be cooped up in that boring room with your old man. Well it's okay, you can always stay in the reception, maybe you'll even find someone to make friends with." He said, his voice vibrant and reassuring, he was always pretty energetic for a man his age, and he was the one who influenced my mom to become like that too, it reminded me of physics, my dad being the driving gear, and my mum being the driven gear.

I gave in to my dad's idea pretty easily, an exhausted look on my face as I closed my eyes and then sighed, "Fine." I turned to the opposite direction-, the way back to the reception, "I'll be waiting for you till you're done with work."

A cheerful grin played across my dad's lips, he put his hand on my shoulder and held me closer to him, he then said in an enthusiastic voice, "That's my girl."

I returned a smile to his gesture, it was slightly forced, but I wasn't hating the moment either.

I walked down stairs to the reception and sat in one of the fancy chairs, it's legs silver coated with a comfy black cushion on the bottom and back rest.

I looked around the place for a bit, my gaze moving from the beautiful gleaming tiled floor, to the fancy wall clock, to the receptionist's desk, then back to the floors.

My gaze took on that uniform pattern of movement for a while until I got sleepy and drifted off to Dreamland.

By the time I woke up, it was already night time, I took a look at the clock and the clock read 11:04 PM.

"I know dad's usually busy in the office, but he's never come home by this time before." I thought to myself, my tone expressing concern and confusion. The receptionist wasn't even present anymore, which made me even more confused.

I decided to walk up the stairs back to his office to check on him, the lights of all the other offices there, and even those in the hallway were all already turned off.

"Maybe he's having some late night session with a patient," I thought to myself.

As my feet tapped gently on the ground, the sound of my footsteps echoed through the halls, it was really that quiet.

"Everyone must have already closed from work and gone home. Why is dad taking so long?," I thought to myself.

As I walked through the halls to his office, I feared the slight possibility that he may have forgotten me since he doesn't take me with him to work everyday, but I quickly killed the thought, "No, it's not even possible, dad can't forget his own daughter at work." Another logical reason to reassure myself popped into my head, "Besides, I was literally in the reception, he would have seen me before leaving anyways."

Once I arrived at his office, I could see the bright white light from the light bulb, trying to escape through the blinds shielding the glass screen of the door.

"I knew he didn't forget me," I said to myself in a proud, confirmatory tone.

I knocked gently against the surface of the white metallic door...

There was no answer.

"Could he be asleep?," I questioned myself after bringing my ear closer the the metallic door to listen for an answer.

I knocked on the door again, a little harder this time. With expectancy I called out, "Dad? Dad are you asleep?"

Once again, there was no answer.

I slowly pulled down on the shiny metal doorknob, the fact that it was metal meant it should have been cold to touch, but the doorknob felt relatively warm, like someone had left the room or went in not too long ago.

Regardless, I pulled down on the knob and gently pushed the door open. My gaze quickly shifted to my dad's desk...

"Ahhh!" A loud scream erupted from my mouth, emerging from the depths of my stomach.

My eyes couldn't believe the scenery before them-, my father, with a gunshot wound to his temple, and a gun in his hand, he was laying lifelessly in his office chair, dried blood trailing down from the side of his head with the wound to the chair, all the way to a dreadful crimson stain on the ground.

My eyes widened in shock and fear, tears already started flowing down my face, for a few moments I was paralysed on the spot, scared and confused.

"I can't-, I can't believe it," I said, my hand clutched to my mouth in shock. "Did he really-, did he really commit- ?," I stuttered, a mix of fear and sadness etched on my face.

I immediately ran through the halls, desperate, calling out for anyone. "Please someone!, anyone, someone please come help my father, please!"

But to no avail. I tripped over my own feet due to the fact that my tears were obscuring my vision. I sat there on the ground, in the dark dimly lit hallway, bawling my eyes out.

Then, someone walked up to my direction from the other end of the hall.

The moment I heard footsteps, I lifted my head expectantly, my eyes gleaming with hope, but the hope was only short lived, I beheld a dark figure like a man in the dimly lit corridor, but he was about the height of a boy.

I could only see the lower part of his body, from his stomach downwards, his face was well hidden amidst the murkiness of the hallway. I stared at the boy, "Could he...be able to help?" I desperately questioned myself.

The boy wasn't holding anything in either of his hands, but the really strange part was when he slowly lifted his arm and coiled his fingers, like as if he were holding a pistol in his hand. A jolt of fear rushed through my body at the instant he pointed the imaginary gun at me.

I knew he wasn't holding a gun, or anything for that matter, but at that instant I had no idea what to think or believe anymore. I said in a very soft feeble tone, my voice reduced to a whisper, "Please... don't kill me."

To my suprise, the boy dropped his arm, turned around, and left without uttering a single word.

*Flash back over*